Hell's Kitchen
by Michael McDoesn'texist
Summary: Niffty asks Alastor if he could find someone to help her in the kitchen. And with the help of an obscure bureau, Alastor finds the perfect candidate for her. Rated M because what else?


In the office located on the top floor of the hotel, Alastor was taking some time off, I mean, he deserved it, obviously. But his break was not going to take long apparently.

"BOSS!" Niffty screamed as she kicked down the door to Alastor's office, no problem. Alastor quickly pulled up his pants and smiled.

"Niffty my dear, so good to see you, even though you barged right into my office without prior notice we have talked about this damnit why don't you listen to me your insubordination frustrates me to no end NOW HOW CAN I HELP YOU?" He said very quickly, finishing with a big smile and a twitching eye.

"Alright, so, I need to ask you a small favour Alastor." Niffty started.

"No."

"I didn't even ask anything."

"My answer is still going to be no, regardless."

"So if I were to ask you if you could please **not** find someone for me to help in the kitchen...?" Niffty said with a sweet smile.

"No, I will not not help you find someone to help you in the... wait..." Alastor stopped himself.

"K thx BYE!" Niffty said before flashing him anime-eyes and sprinting out of the room.

"Blasted! Tricked by the maid of the hotel! This is why feminism should never have been created, wouldn't you agree my dear Angel?"

"mmph mmph mmph."

"For crying out loud, when I said don't lose the rubber I didn't mean you had to necessarily keep it in your damn mouth, you imbecile!"

* * *

_**Dinner service, **__**around 6**_

* * *

Vaggie was keeping a sharp eye on the dining room. Surprisingly enough, out of all the places in the hotel, this was where most of the chaos ensued. Random foodfights, clients consuming too much alcohol, clients smuggling stuff and worst of all...

Charlie's surprise concerts...

Speaking of which, Charlie just came out of the kitchen. Things had clearly gotten pretty busy, judging by the sweat literally streaming of Charlie's face, her heavy panting and the stains on her clothes. (Vaggie SINCERELY hoped that the red stains were either tomato or red wine).

"So how did it go?" Vaggie asked.

"I think I just discovered the 10th circle..." Charlie panted. She grabbed a can of soda and downed its contents in one gulp.

"Alastor couldn't arrive sooner with some new kitchen staff."

Vaggie scowled. "I doubt we'll get someone who doesn't ask too much in terms of salary. We've been bleeding cash as of late. Which reminds me..."

She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolded it in front of Charlie.

"I think I already know the answer to this question, but do you know who paid for this shit?" She asked in a very serious tone.

Charlie scanned the document quickly, whilst muttering to herself.

"I.M.P...? ...let you keep the knife... kids die for free? What the fuck?" Charlie's eyes widened when she saw the price on the bottom of the document.

"Vaggie, I think I'm gonna faint." She muttered before she lost her balance. Luckily, she was caught by Angel who just so happened to pass by.

"Woah, woah, keep your cool sugar, what's tha matter? Anything Daddy Angel can do for my two darlings?" He said with a smug grin as he helped Charlie onto a chair.

"Angel, did you hire a team of imp assassin's with the hotel's money?" Vaggie asked him.

"Now why in the fuck would I do that? All the people I'd like to _screw_ are either already here or will be coming here eventually, and I have like, an eternity to wait for them." Angel deadpanned.

"Well, if what you're saying is true, and Charlie and I didn't hire them, then that means..."

_***BANG***_

The front door was kicked open and Alastor waltsed into the dining area, in a bright mood as always.

"YOU! COÑO!" Vaggie spat and she stomped over to the Radio Demon.

"Are you going to shout at me again?" Alastor asked, his facial expression remaining unchanged.

"What... in the name of FUCK were you thinking when you signed this here contract?" Vaggie yelled as she shoved the piece of paper so far in his face it almost entered his nostrils.

"Oh yes, those little fellas, well, you will not BELIEVE the story I have to tell you my dearest Vaggie!" Alastor said.

"Try the short version." Vaggie growled through her teeth.

Charlie joined them and with a disappointed look she asked Alastor: "Why did you just do this without telling any of us Alastor, come on!" She said.

"Now, first things first..." Alastor said as he started fumbling with his cane.

"I never actually ended up paying them. And judging by all your surprised expressions, I guess I should explain this whole ordeal. WITH STYLE!"

The lights suddenly went out, except for one light focussed on Alastor. A band appeared in the background as the Radio Demon brought his microphone to his lips, took a deep breath AND...

* * *

**Please don't make me write a song you guys, I can barely write a decent story for fuck's sake.**

* * *

"So in conclusion..." Alastor said as the smoke cleared and the guests stopped applauding.

"I got the new kitchen staff, alive and well, without having to pay for anything. Those poor little imps sure didn't like it though. Why, the small one even went back to the living world and came back with a rope around his neck, _HAHAHAHA_. Very amusing."

"But then, who was worth the trouble of getting out of the world of the living Alastor?" Charlie wondered.

Then, the door was opened and everyone went completely silent.

In the doorway, accompanied by heavenly music and white doves, a man. Tall. White chefs attire with the top unbuttoned. His blonde, spiky hair going everywhere on top of his rather wrinkly forehead. He had his arms crossed and a very stern look on his face.

Charlie heard some of the guests whispering.

"Is that... actually...?"

"It couldn't be..."

"What the hell have they been serving us if HE has to come in?"

Vaggie and Charlie just looked at the new staff member dumbfounded. The only thing Angel could say was:

"Well, Vaggie, Charlie, my condolences for Niffty, she was a good gal. I'm going to hide in the bar for a while now." And with that, he ran off.

* * *

"Oh boy, oh dear, five more tickets?" Niffty said to no one in particular as she ran through the kitchen, managing three furnaces and 5 ovens at the same time.

"When is my help going to come in?" she whined.

_***BANG***_

The door was violently broken down.

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Niffty turned to the noise before she was grabbed by the neck and lifted up into the air, looking straight into the eyes of none other than Gordon Ramsay.

"Are you fucking kidding me Alastor!" She screamed in her head.

"What the FUCK is going on here?" Gordon yelled.

"Well I WAS trying to do my job as chef, but then you came barging in and..."

"Stop, STOP! Listen here you, I don't want any of your fucking excuses, I want you to get organised and push out some actual good food FOR YOUR GUESTS!" Gordon yelled and he dropped Niffty.

He grabbed the tickets from the counter and started reading them.

"2 scallops, 3 lamb, 2 salmon, 1 salad, 1 steak LET'S GO!" Gordon yelled. Niffty however was still on the floor, in somewhat of a shock.

"Come on, let's GO NIFFTY!" Gordon yelled. Niffty quickly jumped back onto her feet and started working, fast and HARD.

Meanwhile, Alastor decided he should peek inside to see how things were going.

"So Chef, how is your time in..."

"Ey ey ey listen here you, I don't have time for your bullshit right now, okay, I'm tring to manage a kitchen here, do you understand?" Gordon interrupted him.

"Ex-FUCKING-scuse me!" Alastor said and he walked straight in. How dared this mortal speak to him like that?

"I do not think you know who you are talking to, no sir!" He said as his pupils slowly disappeared and started to make way for radiodials.

"Now are you going to..."

"Ey, shut up you and listen." Gordon interrupted him again.

"You think I'm just gonna come here and blow smoke up your arse, is that it?"

"Well..." Alastor started.

"Well, then you can start actually contributing to this damn kitchen, do you understand?"

And before Alastor even realised it, Gordon had shoved a jacket in his arms and yelled: "Now PISS OFF!", sending a frightened Alastor into the kitchen.

* * *

_**Dinner service, around 7**_

* * *

Both Alastor and Niffty were both completely and utterly exhausted. Not only did they receive more tickets, but the pressure to impress Chef Ramsay was intense. And of course, that kind of pressure could lead to...

"NIFFTYYYY! COME HERE YOU!"

Niffty let out a deep sigh and ran over to the Chef.

"Yes Chef, what's..."

"No no no, shut up and take a look at this." Gordon said as he picked up a piece of lamb.

"I ask for a piece of lamb, medium rare and what do you give me?" He shouted.

Niffty took a quick glance. That lamb could still be running a fucking circle in a field.

"It's undercooked chef..." She muttered.

"IT'S FUCKING _**RAW**_!" Gordon yelled and threw the meat on the floor. "DO IT AGAIN! AND DO IT BETTER FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Defeated, Niffty returned to her station. Usually around a time like this, Alastor would've thrown in a snidey remark, but he was on thin ice already. He had burnt a steak, was usually too late with the garnish and lacked the skills to properly prepare a beef wellington.

"ALASTOR! COME HERE YOU DONKEY!"

"AGAIN?" Alastor exclaimed, nearing desperation.

"YOU, shut the fuck up and get your arse over here!" Gordon said again.

"All I wanted you to do, was prepare me a proper salmon, and what do I get here? CHARCOAL!" Gordon yelled as he smashed the piece of fish, staining Alastor's jacket and face.

"What are you doing here, besides trying to screw me over?" Gordon asked him.

"Well you kinda forced me in here..." Alastor retorted.

"Ey ey ey, listen, do me a favour, yeah? GET OUT!" Gordon yelled. Alastor let out a sigh of relief.

"GET! OUT!"

As Alastor walked out of the kitchen, he found Vaggie and Charlie waiting outside, along with Angel, who had apparently taken the time to prepare himself a bucket of popcorn.

"So, how's our new employee doing?" Vaggie asked with a big smirk.

Alastor huffed and puffed a while, raised his finger and then collapsed on the floor.

The other three kind of just looked at him. Vaggie chuckled. "If only he knew how entertaining THIS is. For me especially."

* * *

At the end of dinner service, Alastor was shoved back into the kitchen and took a seat next to a broken mess of tears and sweat that used to be Niffty. Gordon was standing in front of them, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Alright. Lady. Gentleman. Tonight's service, was, in one word, _disastrous_.

Niffty."

"Yes chef."

"When I came in here, for the first time, you were clearly in way over your head missy. And as service progressed, it only got worse. And worse. And worse."

Niffty nodded, without even looking up to look Chef Ramsay in the eyes.

"And you, Radiohead." Gordon sighed.

"Big mouth, lot of yapping, but when you started cooking, you completely fell apart."

Alastor really wanted to say something back, but he was simply too tired... for the first time in forever, Alastor, the Radio Demon, was completely and utterly defeated.

"I hope to see improvement tomorrow. And now, fuck off, both of you. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

With their heads hanging in defeat, both Alastor and Niffty walked out of the kitchen.

Charlie was waiting for them outside.

"Wow, you guys look like absolute shit..." she remarked.

While Niffty broke down in tears in Charlie's arms, Alastor immediatly reached for the phone and dialed a number.

"Yes. This is Alastor. Is your boss there? Yes, I can wait a second.

.

.

.

.

Blitzo, my old friend, no, you don't have to hang up already, I wanted to come back to what I said earlier about your job and payment. Yes, he is here at the hotel. Yes, I am already fed up with him. Ah yes, if it pleases you dear Blitzo, I will even acknowledge that I was, in your words, a colosal cock-munching dickhead. Now please send him back to where he came from. I'll even pay for therapy for that one little colleague of yours and his little lady friend. Yes, if you would please. Pleasure doing business with you my dearest Blitzo. You will receive your money on next tuesday. That is fine. And send my regards to your lovely receptionist. No, I will not sit on something like that if you don't mind. Wonderful, see you next time!"

He hung up and then dropped his head on a table, letting out a very deep sigh.

Charlie walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do you need anything Alastor?"

"Not right now dear, thank you... actually, if you wouldn't mind, could you ask Angel if he would be willing to rob an assassination bureau on wednesday for me?"

"Sure. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight Alastor, before you break down completely tomorrow." Charlie suggested.

And so, the day after, everything quickly returned to normal. Niffty got some new staff that was not as terrible to work with, I.M.P. safely returned Gordon Ramsay to the world of the living and life in the hotel quickly turned back to normal. Until Alastor found out he had accidentally broadcast the entire event in the kitchen through his own radioshow without even realising it, resulting in hell-wide humiliation. But after some swift and brutal territorial takeovers, his old reputation was restored quickly (and forcefully).

* * *

**I have had this idea in my head for almost an entire year, you cannot believe how happy I am that Hazbin finally has its own section on this website. Hope you enjoyed it.**


End file.
